


Breetown Wassail

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Stewards, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:25:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3770051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've pulled this holus-bolus out of "Breetown Yule".  Yes, that's cheating, but I've got enough on my plate already...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breetown Wassail

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Good Yule, Good Yule, all over Bree Town

The snow it is white and the ale it is brown

The bowl it is made from the white maple tree

With the Yule-drinkers bowl we'll drink unto thee

  
Come landlord, and give us a bowl of the best  
  
And we'll pronounce your House a haven for rest  
  
But if you do draw us a bowl of the small  
  
Then away with the landlord, bowl, and all

  
And here's to the healer who lives in the wood  
  
If you're sick Breelindir shall fix you up good  
  
But if you're not ill, and a man you do be  
  
Then the bite of the healer's dog you shall see!

  
And here's to the mayor and his woman well-born  
  
May Eru grant our land a good crop of corn  
  
With a good crop of corn, then merry we'll be  
  
With the Yule drinking bowl, we'll drink unto thee

  
And here's to the maid in the lily-white smock  
  
Who's quick to the door and who pulls back the lock  
  
Who's quick to the door and who pulls back the pin  
  
For to welcome the merry Yule-drinkers in

  
And here's to the Rangers who roam all around  
  
But each year return unto us in Bree Town  
  
We bid them good Yule, and we bid it with glee  
  
With the Yule-drinking bowl, we drink unto thee

  
Good Yule, Good Yule, all over Bree-Town  
  
The snow it is white, and the ale it is brown  
  
The bowl it is made from the white maple tree  
  
With the Yule-drinking bowl, we'll drink unto thee.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
